Married To My Work
by MagicallyBored
Summary: Sherlock was married to his work... until he met John. Set after "The Great Game".


"Sherlock, get up," John ordered. "Sherlock... c'mon, up, up, UP!" he pulled Sherlock out of bed and dragged the half-awaken Sherlock into the living room. "You don't usually sleep this late. What's going on, Sherlock?"

"Mmmf...Jawn," Sherlock mumbled. He sat up on the couch and stared sleepily at John.

"Sherlock, what's going on? You're not acting like yourself ever since you walked in, um, on me and... uh, Sarah," John crossed his arms.

"Ughhh," Sherlock groaned. John swallowed at the sound of Sherlock's deep, baritone voice. Sherlock began to sulk.

"No, don't start this with me, Sherlock Holmes," John lifted Sherlock up again, as if he were a little five-year-old. "What? Is Sherlock married-to-my-work Holmes jealous?"

"No John, I'm not jealous. Jealousy is boring," Sherlock proclaimed, sitting himself up.

"Anyways, you can't have Sarah," John sighed and sat down on his chair.

"Ha!" Sherlock laughed, "Do you really think I like that boring woman? Look at me John, do I look like the type of person to be dating Sarah?"

John suddenly felt defensive. "Stop this Sherlock. Discussion over."

"Oh, but it's just started," Sherlock grinned. John got up to make a cup of tea, Sherlock's eyes following him like a cat.

John ignored. "So, um, do you want a cuppa?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Sherlock picked up the Sunday paper. "Boring. Dull..." Sherlock muttered, as he scanned through the paper.

John sat down with his tea and stared at Sherlock reading the paper. The way his icy green-blue eyes slid from left to right of the paper gave John shivers down his back. His thin, violinist hands moving across the paper to turn the page, made John swallow hard. Stop John, you're not... gay.

"So John," Sherlock's voice hit John like a tidal wave.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really want to know why I'm like this today?" Sherlock asked, daring John. He was sure John would say yes, Sherlock would finally tell John he truly loved him. Oh yes and "married to my work"? That was sure a mistake Sherlock said the first day they met. After "The Great Game", as John calls it, Sherlock realized how much he cared for his flatmate. Not just brotherly caring, (just plain "caring" was a surprise to Sherlock) he loved John. He wanted solve cases with him, watch crap telly with him, and he really wanted to snuggle up to him in his cuddly jumper .

"No, actually. I-I don't want to know," John swallowed. He was getting uncomfortable. This has been happening lately, John realized whenever he was around Sherlock, his pulse quickened, he started to sweat, and he was always stuttering around him.

"Oh," It was meant to be a really-John-you-can't-be-serious "oh". But it ended up as a but-John-I-love-you "oh". Sherlock sighed and adjusted his posture. "You-you sure?" Sherlock cleared his throat.

"You know what, fine," John clanked his teacup on the coffee table. What was so damn important that Sherlock had to keep urging John to ask? "You really have been scaring me, Sherlock. You're just not yourself." John slumped down into the chair with his favorite pillow. "What's up, Sherlock?"

Sherlock suddenly froze. It seemed so easy to tell him, yet he was frozen right then when it was happening; right now, in the present, in the flat. "Um..."

"Oh my God, Sherlock. You practically forced me to ask you what was up, and now you can't say anything?" John uncrossed his legs. "Sherlock? Sherlock?"

Half of Sherlock's brain was thinking of what to say next. The other half was a mix between "Oh my God John I love you brilliant deduction skills can I kiss now I love you I love you..."

Time was ticking... John was getting impatient. "For the love of-"

"I love you, John,"

"Wha-"

"You heard me John Hamish Watson," Sherlock kept his head held high. "I love you."

Silence.

"You love... me?" John managed.

"Yes," Sherlock kept a straight face. "Oh, it's alright if you don't... erm, love me back. I can move on. I just needed to get that out to you."

"No, no," John replied, "it's alright. I love you, too."

Sherlock nodded... Then he realized, "Wait, you love me... too?"

"Of course," John laughed, "I'm actually surprised you haven't noticed."

Sherlock smiled and then tilted his head, "So what now?"

John sat next to Sherlock on the couch. He put his arm around Sherlock's neck. He breathed against Sherlock's lips, eyes fixed on each other, "Whatever you want."

Sherlock swallowed hard. He tilted his head and closed his eyes he leaned in and kissed John. Oh, he'd been longing for this. Just then, John pulled away.

"Was-was that okay?" John asked.

"More than okay," Sherlock wanted more. He sat on to John's lap and kissed him again, more affectionately, lasting a couple more seconds. "God, I love you."

John laughed and kissed Sherlock's nose.

_END_


End file.
